


Interlude

by Germinal



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Gen, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Germinal/pseuds/Germinal
Summary: In which Grantaire's evening ends more happily than it begins.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThebanSacredBand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThebanSacredBand/gifts).



October, in Grantaire’s personal calendar, was an annoyingly transitory month. It was a month that came trudging after those where summer’s promise had definitively faded, but before those where winter’s snow and darkness would definitively close in, and he always found it more particularly difficult to get though than he did the rest of the year. Grantaire’s days of emptying what seemed like endless carafes on the sunlit terrace of the Musain, blending sardonic toasts with earnest and sometimes interesting conversation, had not yet given way to his annual retirement to his lodgings for the month of December, a period where he took care to have stocked up enough wine and spirits to provide himself with a tolerable hibernation while the city emptied itself of his drinking companions. 

Still, he’d almost made it to October’s end, and, he thought, he would be glad as ever to see the back of it. Little remained of this particular evening, after a day spent rising late, strolling with no particular urgency from studio to wine-shop, and then back again, until darkness descended on the vaguely familiar street on which he found himself. 

Having possible room and certainly inclination for a final drink, he headed towards the Musain. The streets seemed perhaps busier than usual, but the place was customarily crowded as he pushed his way, with stumbling steps, towards the stairs to the wine-shop’s upper room. 

He had not expected to find anyone he knew here on this particular evening, and so, the mists of drink resolving into dubious clarity, he remained unsure that he could believe his eyes that several of his companions were present, let alone that they looked pleased to see him enter. 

As he stood staring in the doorway, several glasses were raised in his direction, the majority of their bearers’ faces indistinct, other than that of Enjolras, on whom Grantaire managed to focus with stunned disbelief.

As a hand was clapped upon his shoulder, he turned, to meet the amused gaze of Courfeyrac, who offered him a glass of his own.

“My thanks, immediately, for winning me my wager on where you’d end up on this particular night – and, secondly, my thanks for deigning to spend the remnants of your birthday with us. Raise your glass with us, please.”

Grantaire drank to soften the embarrassment of being toasted, clapped upon the back, and ushered round the room until it seemed that everyone there had wished him well. It was regrettable that he’d wasted his best rhetoric earlier in the day, on those oblivious to its occasion, but he mustered up what thanks he thought appropriate. His words deserted him on reaching Enjolras’s table, and he could do nothing but look down at him, still dumbfounded at his presence. 

Looking up at him, Enjolras sighed. “We’re glad to have you here, Grantaire – tonight, at least.”

That memory was among his last of the night. Back in his lodgings, and unsure he had not dreamt the previous hours, Grantaire allowed himself to fall into a sleep of unaccustomed satisfaction, heedless for once of what trials the next day might bring.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ThebanSacredBand, I hope you like it!


End file.
